Changeling
by keyqueen
Summary: Detective Murdoch will always remember his apprentice Javert "Crabtree" as overexcitable, and eager to please. But then Constable Crabtree's secret past was nearly discovered and He was forced to leave his mentors side. Seven years later Sargent Javert has returned to Paris. Murdoch can't help but wonder if this all business Sargent can really be the playful constable that he lost.
1. Chapter 1- Walking back into reality

There was only on place Javert really wanted to be. Paris police station house number four once felt so large and protecting. Now his home since fourteen seemed so much smaller then in his memories, so much less inviting. Javert stood on the edge of the road his eyes set fast on the pilling font door.

He wanted so much to be inside once more, to listen to the inspector banters, to follow the detective around and assist him with the cases, and to play jokes on his fellow constables along side Henry Higgins. Javert shock himself out of his meloncaly, he did not know what he would find in the present station four but he did know that it wouldn't be any of that. That was all fragments of memories, peaces of a time long lost,never to be regained.

But maybe, he wanted to believe, that can be preserved. Maybe as long as he didn't go in he could keep pretending. Keep pretending that nothing had changed. That nothing would be different when he did go in. Just mabye. There was only one place Javert wanted to be, and only one time he wanted to be there. The time before the devil entered his life.

The argument of fantasy having won over the whisper of logic, for the second time that day Javert turned his back on the forsaken imposter of his once was home and started to walk away. Before he could step of the curb he felt a hand gently placed on his shoulder.

"My goodness, Javert?" He heard a familiar female voice whisper "Is it really you?"

Javert slowly turned around to face the women how held him. "Hello doctor, Ogden."

Julia Ogden sadness gave way to a warm smile. "I hardly regained you, your all grown up."

Javert gazed acwardly over the doctors shoulder.

"It has been nearly seven years," he reminded her.

"yes of course it has." Julia said sadly looked down at the ground. She didn't want to make Javert uncomfortable. She wanted to get to know him again, she wanted to be close to him like when he was a boy. "How long have you been back in Paris? Have you been to see William yet?"

"I just got back last night, I was going..." Javert looked back at station four.

Julia followed his gaze, then looked back with surprise. William doesn't work there any more, not since Inspector Brackenreid retired. I thought he would have surly told you that."

"No he did, I probably just didn't remember." Then Javert added mentally "Or didn't want to believe."

Julia suddenly looked at Javert sympathetically. "I can hardly blame you Javert. William told me what happened. It's all so horrible."

"It's not the first time I've been threatened be a criminal." Javert brushed off light lightly.

"I know" Julia sighed "but even still I would prefer that you didn't have to endure such a thing, and I know William feels the same, even more so."

"The detective always told me that it was just part of the job." Javert stated as simply as if he had said two plus two equal four.

Julia chuckled a little, "What you really want to say Sargent is, that if William really wanted to keep you safe he wouldn't have shahid you into the police force."

Julia's laughter grow more playful at Javert's surprise. He looked back at the doctor with his lips slightly parted in near horror. Then for the first time, to Julia's knowledge, since there conversation started he smiled. The truth would have broken her heart. The truth being that this small smile was his first authentic smile in years.

" shahid me?" He asked amused.

"Come on Javert, you know I've always encouraged you to talk candidly with me. Why should you stop just because you've gotten a big promotion?"

"I see," Javert said, "although if I recall, that was not to only less-then-professional habit of mine you encouraged."

Javert quickly grow sober again. "Besides, I would never say that about the men who gave me my life,no matter how dismal it may seem to others. Detective Murdoch knew what he was doing with me."

Javert turned away from the doctor and began slowly walking along the wooden sidewalk. Julia watched him for a moment. She knew that he wanted her to walk with him but she felt as though time directly around her suddenly stood still. Where she should have been seeing a thirty year old Sargent, she saw a twenty three year old constable. Or was he fifteen?

"You're not just another one of his experiments,Javert." She called to him it started out that way, but you became so much more."

Javert slowly turned around to face Julia once more. He looked at her as though considering her words. And as though he wanted to believe them but unable to make himself.

"Where are you staying?"

Javert looked up the street, "The officers bunkhouse near station seven."

"Why don't you come stay with William and I?"

Javert shock his head, "Thank you doctor, but I'm fine."

Julia looked back with some concern. "Are you sure? Because its no trouble. We have a guest bedroom already for someone that know one ever uses."

"Its a generous offer but I've always been more comfortable sleeping in a police house."

"Of course." Julia surrendered "but I must insist that you have dinner with us when ever your duties permit."

Javert excepted the compromise with pride. "Certainly. I wouldn't have it any other way."

The man who hardly ever smiled, smiled for the second time in one day.

"How about tomorrow evening?"

"That would be perfect." He started then quickly explained "My new duties don't start until the day after."

"Oh really?" She looked him up and down almost disbelieving.

"problem?" He asked

"If your off duty Sargent, why are you in uniform?"

"To make up for all the times I broke uniform protocol as a youngster." He offered then when she clearly had not bought it continued. "The truth is in prison one quickly learns to stay in uniform even while off duty."

"Do the inmates often mistake uninformed guards for fellow convicts?" Julie asked

"No, not necessarily," he confessed, " But we don't want to give them that excuse. If a con catches a guard out of uniform they think they can do as they please with him,and then say that they thought he was just another convict, and receive a less sever punishment."

"A perfect plan to get at a guard one loathes." Julia summarized delightedly.

"Precisely," Javert responded. " That is one of the few prison highest I thankful I have never been party to."

"One of the few?" Julia asked intrigued. "I heard you had some interesting adventures while you where away, but I can't wait to here them from yourself expesaily now."

"Then I suppose I will make a more pleasant dinner guest then I thought I would," Javert cleverly bought. The truth was he didn't want to talk about the past seven years. He wanted to forget about them, to pretend that they never happened.

He wanted to pretended that things would go back to the way they use to be. All he would have to do would be to walk into the station house. The inspector would be leaning back in his office chair with his fly swatter in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. As he entered Sargent Hogens would watch him with his eagle eyes. Higgins would snoop around the corner trying to antis him into another silly scheme. And of course detective Murdoch would just be coming out of his office, calling Javert over to show him his latest gizmo.

Javert didn't go inside the station house because he wanted to preserve the past,his perfect fantasy. As long as he didn't go in he could keep pretending that inside time had stood still for seven years. It was that fantasy that had gotten him through the past seven years. But now that a small peace of his past, his fantasy, Julia Ogden had shown up and he could see the mark time had left on her. His fantasy came crashing down, baring his past with it.

With his past buried so deeply not even he could dig it back up, Javert realized that this was his life now, he just needed to build something over the ruins.

"I look forward to it." The doctors delight out did even his fondness of memories. She was expecting terrific and terrible prison stories. How could Javert let down this women who had been such an important part of his youth, even at his own expense? "I have to go run some errands right now though, wouldn't you accompany me?"

Javert gave her a polite nod. "I'm afraid I have to decline. I have a meeting across town in less then an hour."

Julia smiled back at him, "All right then, see you tomorrow evening."

"Good day, doctor." Javert said as the doctor begin to walk off. Then he seemed to think of something. "Doctor Ogden!" He called back to her.

"Please call me Julia." She turned around

"what?" Javert asked horror struck.

"Well since you have discarded your last name, and I must now call you by your first, it seems only far you do the same."

javert opened his mouth as if to argue but quickly samitted.

"Ok, Julia" the named seemed wrong to him almost as though he was talking to someone other then the female coroner he had known half of his life. "I just thought that perhaps you don't tell detective Murdoch that I'm back in Paris. That way we can surprise him tomorrow when I come for dinner."

Julia's delight grew even more powerful. "That a wonderful idea!"

With that Javert gave a finale nod and turned to walk away. He figured Julia would go along with the idea, she had always been a stickler for surprises, much like he himself had once been. He was mostly grateful that she clearly remembered that about him as well, otherwise she might have uncovered his alter motive.

"No" He thought to himself "I'm not just another one of the detectives experiments, I'm the detectives one experiment that when wrong."


	2. Chapter 2- An Unexpected reunion

William Murdoch glared it the fire place before him, behind he could hear the housekeeper, Ms. Kitchen hurrying to set the table. Murdoch turned toward the dinningroom.

"The good china, Ms. Kitchen?" He asked her taking the plates from her hands.

"It was Mis. Ogdons order, Mr. Murdoch." Ms. Kitchen defended. "But if you don't want to use it,I'll fetch some other set."

"No if Julia feels that there necessary then I will oblige." He smiled curiously, "I was merely surprised that our guest is important enough to warrant the good china is all."

Murdoch began laying out the plate, while Ms. Kitchen followed him with the silverware.

"Would I be correct in assuming you have no idea who is coming?" Ms. Kitchen laughed

"That would be quite correct." Murdoch confirmed. It was not unlike Julia to keep harmless secrets from time to time, most, if not all, of which where revealed in there own time. Although Murdoch never prayed, he also never hide his curiosity.

"She's pulling another on over on you?" Ms. Kitchen was no stranger to her employers antics. "Why don't you use some for those super sleuth skills and try to figure out who the mystery guest is before they show up?"

"What, and take all the fun out of the game?" Murdoch teased

"Ever think that's what Miss. Ogden wants you to do?" Ms. Kitchen offered

Murdoch stopped and thought about it a second. In fact, after nine years of marriage he had never thought that might be what Julia wanted.

"Well I couldn't possibly try to sleuth the answer out now, the guest is do to arrive any moment." He sighed. He placed the fourth and final plat down. Then to satisfy his companion he said "but if I had to make a guess with the facts I have already I would say its former Inspector Brackenreid. He and his wife just got back from visiting relatives in Scotland."

He had now sooner finished making his prediction, then Julia came in wearing on of her nicer dresses. Murdoch stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. She almost look thirty years old again.

"Julia are you trying to out shine me?" Murdoch joked.

"I'm so sorry William, I suppose I am going a bit overboard. It just not every day..." She stopped herself before she could spill her secret. "Well I'm quite nervous to be honest. you probably would be as well if you knew."

"Don't say that then, or I will get nervous." Murdoch responded, his curiosity reaching a near boil.

"William Murdoch," Julia scolded "you are not a man who gives into mental suggestions."

"Yet even the strongest of man has his mental limits." Murdoch retorted. "Now, we are only expecting one guest, right?"

"Yes, just one. So why is there a fourth plat?"

Murdoch looked back at Ms. Kitchen with his well known "I've just lost my trail look." If the mysterious guest was the inspector surly he would be bringing the misses. He then removed the spare and handed it to her. "Just a precautionary measure."

Ms. Kitchen took the plat and left the room.

Murdoch refocused his attention on the fire burning in the fireplace. He figured most of the neighbors must think it strang to see smoke raising from someones house in the middle of summer but they were probably used to strange behavior from him anyway.

Julia watched the detective, she carefully studied his intense gaze. she hadn't exactly exadarated when she said that she was nervous. There wasn't any preticuler reason she was worried, she just wanted everthing to be perfect, nothing less. They both deserved it.

After a few moments the grandfather clock struck seven, not a second later the sound of knocking mixed with the chimes.

"Well, he's punctual."

Murdoch looked up. "He, good china,and a party dress? Should I be jealous?"

Julia laughed "I don't think that's going to be a problem. Why don't you answer the door?"

"ok?" Murdoch looked at his wife in suprise. Then he decided it was best to play along. "Alright then, as you wish."

Murdoch left the room and walked out into the hallway. At the front door he took a moment to prepare himself. He couldn't imagine who was an the other side of the door. But in just a second more he was sure to find out.

Pulling the door open Murdoch saw a young man in a police Sargent's uniform. The Sargent apeared about thirty years old, he had black hair combed neatly to one side and he was almost taller then Murdoch. When the Sargent saw the detective his ice blue eyes wided as if in panic and his body tensed slightly.

Something, everything about this younger man seemed familar, seemed right. The neat uniform, the tidy black hair, and the ocean deep eyes. But it couldn't be, could it? Something, everything felt wrong. The stiff way he stood, his towering hight, and most of all the fearsome fire burning behind his eyes.

Murdoch felt his heart flutter slightly.

"Javert?" The detective barely crooked out. "Is it really you?"

Javert noded slowly. "Hello detective."

The apprentice looked uncomftable at his mentor. He hadn't really known what kind of greeting to expect. Mostly he thought that the detective had simply moved on, but deep down he was afraid of something worse. He was not expecting what happened next.

Murdoch suddenly reached across the doorframe and pulled his former constable into a gianormous hug. At first Javert tensed up even more, but after a second he relaxed into it.

"I'm so happy to see you again." Murdoch said into his ear.

" I'm happy to see you too, sir." Javert told him back.

From the shadowy hallway Julia Ogden watch the reunion of mentor and apprentice with a smile braking across her lips.


	3. Chapter 3- The detectives Sergeant

Ms. Kitchen had her back turned from the living room door, fluffing the pillows on the couch. She took no notice of her employers entering the room with their guest. Until he spoke to her by name.

"Good evening, Ms. Kitchen" a strange voice said.

Ms. Kitchen gave a start, then began to slowly straiten her back. She had not recognized the voice, yet it was clearly someone who know her well. Way else would you call your hosts servant by name? The housekeeper turned around to face who ever had addressed her.

When it became clear to Murdoch that Ms. Kitchen did not recognize Javert he quickly stepped up.

"Ms. Kitchen, you remember my Constable don't you?"

Ms. Kitchens eye widened as she looked at the visiter. "Constable Crabtree!"

Before Javert could respond, Murdoch corrected her. "He's a sergeant now actually."

"I should have known you would have found a way to stay with the detective." Javert said politely. When he had last seen her, she still owned the boarding house in which detective Murdoch rented a room. Now the detective had a house of his own.

Ms. Kitchen smiled, "On the contrary it was Detective Murdoch's idea. The boarding house was getting to be a bit much. I had to sell the building."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Javert sympathized.

Ms. Kitchen shrugged. "Things worked out for the better. Well I had better go check on supper, it was lovely to see you again."

Javert nodded as she left the room. Murdoch pulled up a chair and offered it to his apprentice before taking a set on the sofa across from it. Julia sat down next to her husband.

"How long have you been back?" Murdoch asked

"Just two days," Javert anwered "I don't start working until tomorrow. But the burrow has still kepted me occupied."

"I would be surprised if they hadn't." Murdoch said. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimps of a bowl of hard candy sitting on the end table. He remembered how much the younger man liked that kind of candy. Murdoch took the bowl and offered it to Javert. "Would you like some candy?"

"No thanks,sir." Javert declined.

" Alright then." Murdoch replaced the bowl, but made sure it was still in reach. He forced his disappointment down. He had never seen Javert refuse that candy before especially not from him.

"When did the inspector retire?" Javert asked as if he had just thought of the queston.

"About two years ago," Murdoch answered "It was a little out of the blue. But not overly unexpected."

"He and his wife just go back from visiting Scotland for a year. From what Marget wrote in her letters it seemed that she wanted to stay." Julia added

Javert look at the doctor slightly surprised. "Really? I thought Miss. Brackenreid was not fond of the country. Based off of what she told name about their wedding."

Julia chuckled, "I heard the same stories. She seemed to have changed her opinion though. I spoke with her the other day, she told me that she was rather sad to leave."

"So was the inspector." Murdoch pointed out. "I think the only reason they returned to france was becouse the boys stayed behind for collage."

Suddently Julia gave as start as though she had just remembered something. She through out her arm and deliberately elbowed Murdoch in the ribs.

"Oww!" Murdoch exclaimed, jumping away from the source of unexpected abuse. "What on earth Julia?"

"We forgot to tell him!" Julia cryed as if a great crime had just been committed. "Oh I just can't believe we forgot!"

The detective looked astonished at his wife.

"Forgot to tell him what?" He laught "It can't be that dramaticly important can it?"

"About the play, William!" Julia said happily

Murdochs eye brows fell in thought. "Play? Oh, you mean the inspector's play."

Turned back to Javert, Murdoch noticed that he had been watching the married couples playful antics with a cool, detached, not quit, but almost disproving air.

"The inspector informed me recently that he had auditioned for a role in a local production of macbeth." Murdoch told him.

"I take it he was successful?" Javert's question was almost emotionless.

"yes," Julia answered gleefully "He was cast as Macbeth, even."

"That's wonderful for him." Javert responded.

"Isn't it?" Julia grinned, "Way don't you come with Willaim and I to see it opening night? Marget has already invited us to dinner afterward, and I'm sure the inspector would love to see you again."

Javert cast his eyes down to the floor.

"If my duties permit, of course." To Murdoch it sounded as if he was only half interested in the idea.

Ms. Kitchen appered in the doorway.

"Supper's on the table." She told them.

Murdoch stood up. "Thank you, Ms. Kitchen." With a small gesture of his hand he invited Javert to follow him into the dinning room.

Once they were all seated Murdoch handed Javert a plat off food across the table. "I hope you still like leek chicken casserole."

"I beleve so." Javert smiled a little. But just a little.

"Surly they don't feed the guards prison food in toulon?" Julia said amazed

"No, of course not." Javert calmed her. "Just usually nothing this elaborate."

Murdoch picked up his glass and took a long sip. He wasn't really thirst, he just wantedan excuse not to talk, to hide his true emotions. The conversation had finely veered into the territory that he both knew and feared it would, Javerts most recent assignment. Julia however had no qualms about it.

"How did you like working at Toulon?" She asked "It must have been interesting for you to see what happened to the people you help bring to justice on the other end.

"It was." Javert admitted "In fact I even encountered some familiar faces."

Murdoch's interest had been stirred, not only on a professional level but on a much deeper emotional one as well. He already had firsthand experience of criminals that he had locked away, trying to get revenge on him through his constable. Luckily he had always been there to protect Javert, or so he thought. He could not stand the thought that maybe there had been such a time when he couldn't do so.

"Really? Like who?" He asked

"Robert Edwards was transferred to Toulon my second year there."

"So he didn't hang after all?" Julia said happily.

"No, on account that he had killed a murder, and in doing so unknowingly lead police to solve the original murder, the court went lenient on him and gave him life instead. He wasn't under my watch so I didn't see him much."

"Did he recognize you." Murdoch asked hoping his concern didn't betray itself to much.

"Yes, I probably wouldn't have if he hadn't introduced him self to me first. He wasn't vengeful though," Javert added suddenly as if he know that Murdoch was worried. " Mostly he only wanted to know about how his sister, Charlotte was. I told him everything I know and he just seemed grateful."

Murdoch finely got up the courage to ask a question that he had wanted to for seven years.

Javert seemed to think for a second before answering, he also, Murdoch noticed deliberately avoided making eye contact with him. In fact now that he thought about it, had Javert even once look him in the eye all evening?

"It was defiantly an adjustment at first," he said finely "but the first few days where a little ruff."

"So I heard!" Julia laught into her napkin.

The Sargent sighed, "I sincerely wish I had never told the Inspector about that."

Murdoch looked up from his casserole with surprise.

"I'm sorry, Javert." The doctor apologized "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's alright, it's just the other prison guards never let me forget it."

"Then is true," Murdoch asked feeling a blade of guilt cut into his heart. He never believed it. He should have, he should have been there. "When Brackenreid told me you had trouble one your first day I almost thought he was trying to pull one over on me."

It was Javert's turn to be mortified. "I didn't know the Inspector told you." He said cailmly

"He didn't go into details, only that one of the convents had pulled a prank on you."

Javert looked away. If this were any one else in the world, he would have just left it there. There was no need to rehash a seven- year- old pride wounding insedent. Or really any of the ones like it that followed. He would probably never see the man who had caused it all ever again. As far as he was concerned that was all in the past now, part of yet another chapter of his life that was now closed. Much like the chapter set in station house number 4.

But this was not any other person in the world. This was Detective William Murdoch. The man who had built him into the person he was to day. His mentor, guardian, and really the closest thing to a father he ever had. He owed him the truth, no matter how ego bruising it was for himself.

"No, its true."Javert said after a few minuets of utter silence. "There was one convice under my watch who from the start seemed ..."Javert paused, he had know idea how tile the prisoners feelings toward him.

"Did he just hate something about you?" Julia wondered

"No,He didn't seem to exactly hate me at first." Javert continued "but according to my colleagues , since he first saw me he begain to act up in ways he had never don't before, and only when I was around. We first noticed it my first night at the prison. After we gave them supper, one of the others tried to take his bread. We went into the cell and broke up the fight. As I was leading the prisoner out of the cell to take him to solitary he slipped my grasp and ran back in. Then he claimed into the rafters and refussed to come down."

"My goodness." Julia chuckled "Did you get him to come down?"

"Not exactly," Javert admitted, "He stayed for a while taunting me, mostly insisting that if I wanted his to return to the floor that I join him in the rafters. After a while my colleague Blaklen returned from excorting the other prisoner. That's when 24601 decided to make a deal, if I would wear his still full soup bowl like a hat then he would get down and allow me to take him to solitary."

As Javert said the last sentence, dry and humorlessly, Julia let a gentle shriek of laughter. Murdoch put the fork that had been halfway to his mouth back down on his plat, and his forehead on the palm of his free hand.

"I'm sorry, Javert" she apologized "but you must admit its a rather humerus situation."

"Oh ya" Javert said sarcastically. He took a drink before continuing. "Blacklen and all the other convents in the cell thought so too."

"Javert, please" The detective begged. If he know his apprentice at all, he wasn't sure he liked how this story was going to end. If that truly was the out come then perhaps Javert deserved the humiliation. "Please tell me that you didn't give into he's demands."

"Of course not, sir" Javert reassured his mentor. He was pleased to hear a sigh of relief. Or was it of disappointment? "By then I was ready to let him spend the night in the rafters. So I turned to leave the cell. But 24601 jumped down and...spilt his cabbage soup on my head."

Julia was in a full blown fit of laughter now, even her husband looked rather amused. Javert was suprised at how easy telling the story to them had been, and how little their reactions actually bothered him. If it had been any other two people in the world. But in a strange way at the same time as making it easier, it also made it harder. Blaklen and the other convents had meant nothing to him, there opinions never mattered. This was a different story.

"That must have been difficult to live down." Julia said sympathetically once she regained her self.

Javert shrugged "No more so then wearing a dress in front of the entire station house while shooting a pig."

"What!" Julia cried

Murdoch coughed into his glass. He had completely forgotten about that incident, clearly the younger man had a clearer memory or a long and well hidden grudge or most probably both.

"Javert, I am so sorry about that, I truly am." Murdoch

Julia looked at her husband in shock. "Sorry? You know about this, William?"

"Yes, he know about incident I'm talking about happened when I was fifteen," Javert told her " Not in Toulon."

Then to Murdoch he added, "You just did what you needed to, to find a criminal, sir. I can't be mad at you for that."

"Well,William was that a wonderfull suprise." Julia asked softly leaning against the doorframe of the spare bedroom. Inside Murdoch was neeling beside the bed, his elbows where resting on the mattress, his hands entwined together. Julia had waited for his head to gently raise before she had spoken.

Murdoch slowly crossed he chest before Standing up.

"It was the best that I have ever gotten." He smiled sadly, his eyes never leaving the empty bed by which he had been praying. He wished so much that it wasn't empty.

As if having read his mind Julia entered the room and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I tried to talk him into staying hear with us, but he refused. I was surprised that you didn't ask him. I think you would have had more luck."

"Perhaps,"Murdoch let her embrace him around the waist "but probably not."

"What makes you say that?" Julia looked around him into his brown eyes.

"Because, he never was really comfortable sleeping anywhere but in a police station." Murdoch told her. "He just never felt safe otherwise. It's for the best this way."

"If you say so." Julia sight and let go.

Murdoch turned to face her. "Julia, may I ask, which one of your ideas was it to not tell me about his visit?"

Julia laughed, "It was his idea,although I was happy to play along."

"I see." Murdoch sat down on the bed. Something in his tone slightly alarmed Julia.

"What is it, William?" She drew alittle closer.

"It just doesn't seem like something he would do."

Julia pulled back slightly. Where they remembering the same person? The person that she remembered would and did pull small jokes from time to time.

"I mean any more." It was Murdochs turn to seem to read her mind. "I can't say exactly but something's very different about him.

"You mean besides being older?" She asked

"Yes," Murdoch answered solemnly "What ever it is, it's beyond age, it's beyond knowledge."

This was nothing but surprising to Julia, she had seen Javert three times since he retuned to paris and hadn't seen anything deferent in him that couldn't be explained by the simple act of aging. Yet William had only seen him once and acted almost as though he had just met an entirely new person. But then again when it came to his constable, William had something that no matter how well Julia ever got to know Javert she would always lack. Some bold soul might call it fathers intuition. Julia was one such soul.

Murdoch picked up a pile from the pillow of the bed as one would a newborn. He then took a black helmet from the top and run his fingers over the decorative silver shape on the front. Placing that gently aside he ran his fingers over the black cloth that had lain under the was nothing special about the feeling of a constables uniform.

But for the past seven years this uniform had served as a reminder to Murdoch that somewhere there was a constable who would one day returned home to him and live in this very room, sleep in the bed on which Murdoch now sat. For one fleeting secant that evening when he first saw the Sargent on his doorstep, Murdoch had though that today might be that day. Now the uniform represented the constable how he had lost long ago. Now in the constables place he had a Sargent that he must get to know anew.


	4. Chapter 4- An errand boy for station 4

Brackenreid through the two- year -old cold case file from his besk. The thing was worst then a cat, and he was sick and tired of it keeping popping up in his inbox. He watched it slid across the desk top for a moment then land on the floor with a vage satisfaction. As it impacted the floor it's contents spilled out in all directions.

"The cheeky thing can stay there a while." He thought

Then the inspector looked up just in time to see a tall dark haired figure walk past his office window. What did it make this now, the seventh time in nine minuets?

"Murdoch can I have a word!" Brackenreid shouted from he open office door.

Station house 4's new detective left his own office which he had just entered and walked across the station floor to the inspector's. Murdoch stood posed across the desk from Brackenreid.

"How may I assist you, sir."

"Have you had the chance to go over that case file I left on your desk." Brackenreid asked.

Murdoch looked away way ashamed. "No sir, I have not. I've been...somewhat preoccupied with a...personal problem."

"Big shock there." Brackenreid thought. The detective had seemed antsy all day And distracted all day. His behaver greatly contradicted the hard working mannerism that the Inspector had learned to expect from him. Out loud he said, "So I've noticed."

Murdoch winched "Sir, I know I've only been here a short while but I find that I must request a leave of absents to sort the matter out."

Brackenreid leaned forward in his chair and looked up at Murdoch. The detective had no need to feel sorry about asking for personal time or to sweet talk Brackenreid into giving it to him. Having worked eightteen hours a day six days a week for eight weeks, Murdoch could use his time off to elope with his secret German sweet heart for all he cared.

"Granted, you have ten days." Brackenreid declared.

"Thank you sir," Murdoch said a little relieved

"Just get what ever it is sorted out by then so that you can work without destruction when you return."

"That may be difficult" Murdoch started. Then suddenly his face lite up with a hopeful idea. "Unless, that is, the station could use an errand boy."

"Errand Boy?" The Inspector practically laughed. "If the station did need one, there are hundreds of urchins running around the city to choose from."

"I suppose you're right, sir." Murdoch turned to leave.

Brackenreid observed a drop in the detective's spirit. "Murdoch, what's going on? Come on, close the door and sit down."

Murdoch did as he was told. He clutched his hands in his lap.

"So?"

"There is someone in sainte-rose whom I regret leaving behind." Murdoch begain

"A family member?" The Inspector asked

Murdoch trembled, he couldn't tell the Inspector the truth, at least not yet. No one could know the truth. It would have been easy to just say it was a family member but Murdoch just couldn't bring him self to say it. Murdoch never lied exept to crack a case, but he felt that for both his sake and the other person he must lie.

"No, not exactly." Murdoch sighed as he fabricated a story. "It's a young boy I had somewhat cared for."

"Were are his parents?" Brackenreid asked

"I don't know," Murdoch admitted "He was left outside a church in sante-rose as an infant. The churches minister raised him until he could no longer keep up with the boy. The minister started looking to place him in an apprenticeship. So I took him on as a station errand boy. That was almost four years ago."

Brackenreid had leaned back in his chair and listened intently. "Is there some reason he can't stay at the station in sainte-rose?"

"I just reserved a letter from one of the constables there, apparently my replacement dislikes him." That wasn't the whole truth but Brackenreid didn't need to know it. "Besides that I have begain to worry about his future. I had always wanted him to join the force when he comes of age. I don't think anyone else share my vision."

Although Brackenreid was not completely against the idea to began with, the prospect of a possible future policeman intrigued him.

"How old is he?"

"He'll be fourteen in just over month."

Brackenreid sat quietly for a moment. He really couldn't think of a reason why the station house shouldn't have an errand boy. In fact now that he looked around at the place he realized that with the men occupied by police matters most of the time the station wasn't keep as clean as it should be. Now if they had someone who's job was to maintain the daily up keep. Plus it was clearly important to Murdoch that this boy be taken care of. It would be a two sided advantage with no down side the inspector could see.

"All right Murdoch, go get this lad and bring him here. Then I'll see what use I can make out of him." Brakenreid reached into his desk braw and then dropped several lose coins onto his desk. "For your tickets."

"Thank you,sir." Murdoch stood up. His heart was filling with gratitude and relief. He knew that once the inspector saw the boy work there was no way he could turn him down. Murdoch took the money the inspector offered and left.

Brackenreid had given Murdoch ten days of leave, but it was only five days later that he heard a knock on his office door. Looking up the inspector saw the detective through the window. Near him stood a boy who seemed to be no older the ten years of age. The child was watching the going-ons of the station with a subtle interest. Before entering his superiors office Murdoch seemed to tell him to wait outside.

"I see you sorted out your personal mater," Brackenreid stated as Murdoch opened his office door and entered. "Your back sooner then I expected."

"It was certainly not a holiday leave." Murdoch replied "I had no desire to stay there any longer then I had to. In my replacement, Sargent Han, and many of the men loyal to him seemed pleased that I did not leave empty handed."

"They hate the boy that much?" Brackenreid asked, wondering what one earth he had let Murdoch bring into his station.

"The men who hate him are Hans men and they only hate him because Han hates him. The men who worked at that station while I was in charge had no such qualms. In fact by the time I left most had grow quite fond of him." Murdoch defended, both himself and he's charge.

"Fine then, if you say so." Brackenreid took a drink of whiskey the elbow of his drinking arm propped on his desk top.

As he did so he gazed heavily at the boy whom he could still see through the inter window that looked into the main room of the station. Several of the constables had taken notice of the boy in second hand cloths who had come in with the detective and was now standing just outside the inspectors office. He to noticed them watching him and slowly backed up against the wall. He tried to make himself look as small as possible. The detective had always told him to trust law enforcement, but the last two months had only revived his old instinct of avoiding them.

Back inside the office Brackenreid returned his attention to Murdoch. He felt strongly that Murdoch was holding something back. At least it seemed that he had definitely lied about one thing.

"I thought you said he was fourteen." Brackenreid said. "He can't be that old surly."

"He's almost fourteen." Murdoch corrected, then added sadly. "He's always been rather small for his age."

"Why don't you get him in here." Brackenreid offered.

"Yes, sir." Murdoch nodded and went to the door. "Javert, come on in."

Murdoch talked gently to the child, practically coaxing him into the room.

Once he crossed the threshold, the detective stood next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Inspector Brackenreid, this is Javert."

Javert looked at the inspector with wonder, he had never acutely seen an inspector before. He had heard the men talking about plenty back in the sainte-rose station. But until now the highest ranking officer he had ever met was detective Murdoch.

"Javert?" Brackenreid looked up at Murdoch. Brackenreid did not need to ask an entire question for Murdoch to know what he meant.

"Yes, he was never given a last name, so that's all he goes by."

"So," Brackenreid turned his attention to the boy. "I hear your an excellent sweeper?"

" I suppose," Javert said shyly. He didn't really think of cleaning as a skill one could be ether good or bad at. It simply was to he knowledge the only skill he possessed.

"Well, I want to see what you can do." Brackenreid stood up and grabbed a broom that he kept in a closet for easy access in case of broken whiskey glasses. He than held it out to the boy. Unsure Javert looked over at the detective. As he did so for the first time Brackenreid saw the left side of his face. On his cheek bone was a rather large browse as though someone had,quite recently, slugged him.

The detective gave him a silent nod to tell him to take the broom. Javert did so.

"You can start in the ground floor." Brackenreid told him "What about you Murdoch?"

Murdoch had already started toward his own office. He turned around when the Inspector spoke to him. "I'm off to look over that case you left on my desk days ago."

Brackenreid chuckled, he had completely forgotten about that. Trust Murdoch to remember.

Thirty minuets later the inspector was brought out of the book he was reading by a small knock on the doorframe. Looking up he saw Javert standing in the doorway the broom clutched tightly in his hand.

"Yes?"

"I'm all done, sir." Javert said softly

Brackenreid narrowed his eyes. The kid probably had swept it all under a rug. He thought.

He closed his book, stood up and walked out of his office, taking the broom from Javert as he passed him. He was honestly expecting to hand it to the nearest constable and have them do the job over. However he soon discovered that there was no need. Not only had the floor been swept spotless but all the furniture had been wiped down.

"Bloody hell,"Brackenreid said amazed. The kid had to have messed up some where surly, after all that's what kids do, he thought. "Where is the pile of dirt?"

"In the garbage can," Javert answered confused. Where else was he suppose to put it?

"But I didn't give you a dust pan." Brackenreid said.

"I used a piece of paper," Javert answered.

"And the paper?"

"I gave it back to Detective Murdoch, sir." Javert suddenly remembered to use proper police manners. He had grown accustom to not using them, but now that Murdoch had shown back up in his life he felt obligated to pick them back up as well.

"Very well then," Brackenreid stated it was not exactly praise, but to someone who had heard nothing but insults thrown at him most of his short life, it was very satisfying.

"What do you want me to do now, sir?" Javert offered.

"Nothing," Brackenreid Said, "Lets go talk to Murdoch."

He turned around and begian walking back to the offices. Javert followed closely behind.

As they had been talking, the inspector had been making in the direction of the front desk. Currently a constable had been standing by it talking to the white haired Sargent who was attending it. When the inspector and the young new-comer walked away the constable leaned in closer to the Sargent.

"Hay Hodge, I saw that boy come in with the detective awhile ago. Didn't know he had a kid."

Sargent Hodge shrugged. He the looked back at the child. He wasn't so sure that he was the detectives son.

Later that night the detective helped Javert make up his new bed in the stations bunk house. The bunk house was really a large room on the second floor of the station that contained bucks for officers on the nightshift to sleep on.

"The inspector says that you can sleep here." Murdoch was telling Javert. "There's always someone here. If you need any thing just find a constable."

Javert made a small face. Given the constables at the other station he wasn't sure the ones here would want to help him.

"Don't you stay here, detective?" He asked as Murdoch folded back the blankets.

"No Javert, I have my own home now" Murdoch told him. The instant he said it he regretted that he couldn't take Javert to stay in his apartment with him. But it was just to small for two people. "I am going to stay here tonight, though just because everything is so new, and you need to get plenty of rest."

"Yes, sir." Javert claimed onto the bunk and sat on the covers. He then peered over the side at the floor. The hight to it made him feel dizzy. Up till now the only bed he had ever had was just a mattress on the floor and a thin sheet. In the winter it was placed by the fire place to keep him from freezing.

As Murdoch covered the boy with the blanket, Javert's ice blue eyes met the detectives brown ones. His eyebrows were drawn in with worry.

"What's wrong?"

"The men here, their not going to..." Javert's voice drowned out. He know what he wanted to ask he just didn't know how.

"No Javert, that's the good thing about being in a new city. Know one here knows about your they can't judge you before they get to know you. It's a fresh start." Murdoch reassured him. Then added urgently."but it's extremely important that no one here finds out about it unless you completely trusted that person. Understand?"

Javert nodded, "Yes sir. But what do I tell them if they ask?"

Murdoch related the story that he had told the inspector. He had been rehearsing it inside he's head ever since, even adding more details to make it more realistic. After he was don't he laid down in the bunk next to Javert's and waited for him to fall asleep.

As the boy had been awake for over twenty- eight hours straight that did not take long. When Javert's breaths had become so slow and gentle that it seemed he wasn't breathing at all, Murdoch slide off his bunk onto his knees by Javert's. He then crossed his chest and began to pray over him.


	5. Chapter 5- Old times New ways

The sun was just barley rising on the horizon, the street corners still covered in darkness. Most were occupied only by homeless beggars, thought a few late setters or early risers hurried passed. These avoided contact with the latter, they did not want to be caught by the scum in the darkness out of fear of being robbed.

One of these seemingly early risers was a young police sergeant. Unlike the others He walked slowly, down one street onto the next, with no real destination. All of his scenes were alert. Nothing passed his notice.

Each begger he passed received a sharp warning glance, as though he was daring them to do something illegal. He wanted them to know that he was there and that he did not play around when it came to the law. Other then that however he let them be, to continue on with their miserable lifes. It was not as though he was unsympathetic to their plight. His feelings toward them were conflicted at best.

The sergeant walked from on street to the next in a uniform pace,never slowing down, never speeding up. He kept his head forward,yet observed everything around him.

Just as he reached an intersection in the street, two young girls came out from behind the corner. They looked hardly older then seventeen. They did not seem to be beggars, on the contrary the way they wear dressed and walked indicated that they both were from a wealthy family. They wore matching red velvet dresses with white bows tied at the back and their hair was fashioned into fancy buns. Except that one girls hair was dark brown while the others was light blond they looked exactly alike.

The sergeant watched them with a vague curiosity. He could not imagen why two young girls of their class were out at such an early hour. As an officer of the law he could only think it meant trouble.

The girls continued down their street, while sergeant stopped to watch them. As they came closer the blond head, who was closest to him, stole a glance at him and for a moment her dark brown eyes met his deep blue. She gave a tiny smile and blinked at him in a subjective way,but was received with nothing more then an emotionless expression. Then just as she and her companion crossed his path she let her money purse which she held, slip between her fingers.

The sergeant waited for them to get a little distance away before bending to pick it up.

"Mademoiselle," the sergeant caught up to the girls. "I believe you dropped this. You should be carful walking the streets in darkness while you purse is visible."

The young women ignored his caution. "Thank you misure sergeant, you are a kind, handsome man."

The sergeant did not acknowledge her flirtation, instead simply bowed his head curtly and continued his patrol. Before they where out of his sight he saw the girls make there way down the intersecting street.

Not ten minutes later he heard a scream behind him. The sergeant froze for a brief moment as he tried to ascertain from just where the cry had come. Then he doubled back to the intersection. He followed the road where the two girls had vanished. He glanced around looking for the source of the sound, and caught a glimpse of an alleyway between the back of two houses.

He carefully looked around the corner of the nearer house. Laying on the ground of the short alleyway he saw the brown headed girl who had passed him not long before. The blond head was no where in sight. The other end of the alleyway was completely blocked by the side wall of a third house.

The sergeant rushed over to the young girl,and took her pale hand in his. He felt her wrist for a pulse. Finding there was none, he let out an exasperated sigh.

"Sir? Is she dead?" The sergeant turned on the balls of his feet where he was crouched down before the body. He discovered that the freighted voice behind him was that of a young constable.

It took only a secant for the sergeant to recognize he as the same constable who had waken him up at one in the morning earlier that week, when the lower officer had come in to the bunkhouse at the burrow triping over every piece of furniture in the room. In the next secant the sergeants cleverly sharp mind came up with a course of action.

"Yes. What is the nearest station?" The sergeant questioned

"That would be station seven, sir." The shaken constable responded

"Then go there at once and tell the stations inspector there has been a murder." The sergeants voice was cool and calculating. To the constables surprise it carried no fear or even shock at being so near the body of a murdered women.

"Murder, sir?" In contrast the constables voice shook with it.

"Yes, now go!"

Ever since the original station 4 had been closed Detective Murdoch was no longer assigned to a single station. Instead he jumped around to where ever he was needed. Mostly his job now a days was to take over cases that had the less then great detectives of the police force bamboozled. He suspected that by taking away the stability in his career, the higher ups were trying to force him to ether accepted a promotion to inspector or to retire. So far the fifty five year old had not given in, nor shown any sign that he was about to.

Murdoch had just arrived at station seven and was talking to the inspector when an unfamiliar constable showed up. He could tell that the constable worked out of the burrow as opposed to a station because the pen on his uniform caller was a letter instead of a number.

As the desk sergeant lead the constable into the inspectors office, the inspector and detective stopped there conversation and turned there attention on the subordinate.

"What is it son?" The inspector leaned forward on his desk.

"Sir, I was sent here to report a murder."

"Sent by whom,Constable." The inspector inquired.

The constable shrugged. "By a sergeant in my squad sir. I don't know his name. My chef constable told me to talk him to receive my duty for today. But I found that he had already gone out on his patrol. When I located him, he was in an alleyway with a body."

The inspector was not interested in hearing the younger officers life story, he only wanted to know one thing. "You don't know the name of your superior Constable?"

The constable looked away humiliated, then to defend himself said. "He only transferred to Paris a week ago,sir. I haven't talked to him any before to day."

The inspector sighed, "Very well, Murdoch do you think you can handle this?"

Murdoch had been sitting quietly watching the scene. Now he stood up.

"Absolutely,sir. Lead the way constable."

As Murdoch entered the alleyway he quickly glanced around committing the scene to memory. The body laid just as it had before, on her back, her arms placed lightly at her sides. She seemed as though she could have simply be laying down watching the clouds glide across the sky. Still kneeling over her was the young sergeant. He's back was on the entry of the alley. Murdoch however did not find this a hindrance.

"What have you,Javert." He said in recognition as he stepped forward. A phrase for old times sake.

At the familiar voice Javert stood up and turned around. Murdoch stood before him with three constables standing behind him. Including Javert's bunkmate.

"Detective," Javert did not bother keeping his surprise from showing.

"You were the one who found the body?"

"Yes sir, this girl and another walked by me on my patrol. They passed me and went down this street. Not ten minuets later I heard a cry and followed the sound here. I found her, but what troubles me is that I did not see the second girl again. I searched the immediate area but saw no sign. Now that you're here I would like to extend my search."

Murdoch nodded, "I think you're right, take on of the constables here."

Javert motioned to the constable from the burrow to follow him. The other two had pens on their uniform callers shaped like the number seven, they also appeared older then himself.

Before Javert and his constable left the alleyway Murdoch suddenly called back to Javert.

"Seems fate wants us to work together again,Javert." Murdoch was answered only by a half hearted smile.

"This other girl we're looking for, sir, you don't think she's the killer do you?" The constable asked suddenly. Up till now the sergeant and constable had been walking the streets in silence. The latter seeming to be deep in thought.

"No, I don't think she is, but nether do I think she's not." The sergeant stated flatly. "She's ether the killer, or very likely a witness. Ether way it's important that we find her."

By now the two had turned a corner. Laying on the street before them, Javert could see something white. He walked over and picked it up.

"What is it, sir?" The constable asked.

"A ribbon from a dress," Javert told him. "I believe that it belongs to the dead girls companion."

"How do you know?"

"When I saw them, they were wearing identical dresses. Our victim still has her ribbon tied to her dress. The only logical conclusion is that it belongs to the other."

"Oh" The constable said, ashamed he hadn't thought of it himself.

Javert sighed lightly. How did the detective handle him for all of those years? He wondered to himself.

"Let's go back to the detective." He told the constable.

"I would say that she was strangled," the lead coroner said. Both she and the detective were examining the body. "Likely by something cloth. I'll know more once I get her to the morgue."

"Could this be your murder weapon, Dr."


	6. Chapter 6- The Ironic Games We Play

Javert had walked up silently behind Dr. Grace. The doctor jumped up and rounded on her surpriser.

"Why yes I believe that would be it." She started taking the ribbon. "and please sergeant, you shouldn't sneak up on people when there's dead body's around."

"My apologies, that seems to be a poor habit of mine which I'm having some difficulties in braking." The words that sounded like they should have been said in a playful manner were spoken instead cooly and business like. The coroner eyed the sergeant for a moment.

"Your new here, aren't you?" Dr. Grace asked. "I don't think I've seen you before. Sergeant...?

Murdoch looked up from the body, his eyebrows lifted in wonder. He opened his mouth as though he was going to say something to Dr. Grace. But he was stopped short by Javert who caught his eye and gave an almost invisible shake of his head.

"Yes," Javert told the doctor, " I've just been transferred here. Today is only my second day of duty. And my names not important, sergeant will do for now."

"I see," Dr. Grace said completely buying it. She then held up the ribbon. "Well thank you for this."

Javert gave her a small nod. Then he returned his attention to the detective. "Unfortunately sir, we did not find the other girl. She had to much of a head start."

"Thats alright, sergeant." Murdoch said the word sergeant with an over intense emphasis to let Javert know that he was playing along with what ever game he was playing with the doctor.

Up till now Murdoch had avoided addressing his former constable by his new rank. As he did so now, the title seemed strange and foreign. Even though he had addressed hundreds of different men the same way over the years. Murdoch had never thought that Javert would be one of those men, in fact he and everyone else who had known him as Murdoch's constable never expected him to become a sergeant at all.

As Murdoch was recovering from his reality shock, held the ribbon the sergeant had given her up to the victims neck.

"My goodness," she said, "This is a perfect match. Here's the murder weapon alright Detective Murdoch." Murdoch reached out and took the ribbon. He examined carefully.

"Doesn't look like we're going to be able to lift any fingermarks from it." He said disappointed. Then out of habit to Javert. "Very good work, any way."

Dr. Grace was not paying any attention to what the detective was saying. Instead her mind was on someone else.

"Sergeant what on earth are you doing!" She cried. Javert was at the other end of the alleyway on his hands and knees. He had stuck the pinky side of his right hand into a deep crack in the foundation of the wall. By his order the three constables were also crawling around. Dr. Grace could not help but to find the scene comical. Her out cry also turned the detectives attention.

"Sergeant, your not a constable anymore." He laughed.

Javert look up and told them calmly. "I'm looking for something that may have left the puncture wounds in her arm."

"Puncture wounds?" The doctor scowled.

Javert stood back up and walked over to the others. Kneeling next to Dr. Grace on the right side off the body he pulled back the sleeve of the left arm. Then showed both her and Murdoch two perfectly round wounds on this inside of the arm.

"My goodness," Dr. Graced cried. "It looks like she's bitten!"

Javert squinted on eye. "Bitten? I was thinking by some thing along the lines of a two pronged fork."

"Ve..." Murdoch started to praise him but stopped himself short. "No a constable any more." He mentally echoed himself. "Seems the doctor and I completely over looked that."

"Well your theory's quite sound sergeant," huffed, "But I must disagree and tell you that I have one of my own."

The doctor didn't know who this random sergeant was, but she did know that he was walking on a turf which he did not belong. If he was looking to be the detectives pet, then he needed to find a new detective. Murdoch was already spoken for.

Ever since Murdoch's constable had left Paris, the coroner felt as though he had sort of taken her in his place. Dr. Grace like to think that she was reserving the position for her dear friend if he returned. Now it seemed to her that Murdoch was not being as faithful to that bond as she. There was no way she was going to let some unknown sergeant kick her out and steal the constables place. Not without messing with him first. She was however completely unaware of the irony of the situation.

"Oh?" Javert asked with detached interest "What might that be?"

"I believe," Dr. Grace stated as if she was not about to spill out some brogues tall. "That the killer is in fact a vampire."

This evolution was meet with a sharp dismay from the detective. The sergeant showed no reaction

"Emily, you can't be serious."Murdoch groaned. Hadn't this whole supernatural game been left behind in station four?

Ignoring the detective Dr. Grace continued. "The puncture wounds must be where the vampire drank her blood. Then it straggled her it confuse us into thinking that a human committed the crime."

Javert crossed his arms acrossed his chest. When he was young and took this posture he would slip his fingures under his arms leaving his thumbs resting on the buttons of his uniform pockets. Murdoch had always found it rather endearing. Now however he clinched his hands in lose fist and set them on the opposite forearm. He then gazed sternly and disapprovingly at Dr. Grace.

"Vamires," Hs said coldly "What has the world come to? Surly you don't believe such a thing?"

Murdoch discovered that all at once he was suprised, proud and even a little disappointed that Javert had given up on supernatural fantasies. He knew that when Javert was eightteen the inspector had tried to scare in out of him. After that he never breathed another word about it,even turned the tables on the inspector once. But Murdoch had always suspected that Javert had never completely given them up, instead simply realized that if he wanted to stay alive he shouldn't try to argue with the inspector about it anymore.

"No of course not," Dr. Grace hadn't expected such a harsh reaction from the sergeant. "The truth is I used to have a constable friend who would sometimes get such ideas in he's head during cases. He never came up with it on his own, but if someone brought it up then no one could get him to let it go. Not even the inspector he was under."

"Of course some people never tried to make him leave it." Murdoch added accusingly to Dr. Grace. "I can think of two doctors off the top of my head who even went so far as to encourage him."

"This constable friend, is he still around." Javert asked completely believable.

"Really?!" Murdoch shouted, staring at the sergeant in shock. He didn't think that the younger officer would take his charade that far. His outcry did not go unnoticed by the doctor or the constables who where still searching the ground.

"Sadly no," Dr. Grace looked at Murdoch with a quizzical glance then back at the strange sergeant. "He was reassigned as a gaurd to Toulon prison some years ago, it was rather unexpected."

"Probably for the better," Javert said,"I have a feeling this constable and I would not get along very well. And knowing my luck I'd be stuck with him instead of that night owl over there." He motioned to his bunkmate. Dr. Graces eyebrows drew in as she thought.

"No." She told the young sergeant, "I think your right. I don't think Constable Crabtree would like you very much ether."

Murdoch was still siting on the ground by the body. Currently he was shaking his head in decided that he had better break this up before it got any stranger then Javert picking on Constable Crabtree as if he were a complete stranger as opposed to his younger self.

"I thinye we're done here," Murdoch announced,standing up "Emily why don't you get the body to the morgue. And sergeant I think it's best you come with me to give the sketch artiest a description of the missing girl."

"I will if you think it's necessary, sir." Javert begain. " I however do not believe that it is."

Murdoch looked at the sergeant with curiosity. "Way is that?"

Javert nodded toward the body, which was now being moved onto the stretcher by the morgue staff. "If you have the sketch artist draw a portrait of the victim then you will have a more acuret likeness then I can describe, the only difference is that the other girl is blond."

"Identical twins?"

"I believe so sir,"

"Then I'll do just that," Murdoch concluded then added, " And I will contact you at the burrow when I get any leads."

Javert opened his mouth as though he were about to protested but seemed to change his mind. He did want so much to help the detective solve the case, and for it to be like old times again. But too much had changed, and the old times were never going to be completely the same. Javert wasn't willing to go only half way, he ether wanted things to go back exactly the way they use to be in station four or forever thing be different like at Toulon. Still seeing how much it meant to his mentor, how could he say no?"

Unseen by ether of them, but not by the constable from the burrow, Dr. Grace glared at the two from over the body.

"How can Murdoch just replace Javert like this," she growled inwardly, As Murdoch patted the strange sergeants shoulder, before departing with the station seven constables. "After all they've been through, surly Murdoch hasn't given up on him coming home? Trader!"

Once Murdoch was gone Javert turned his attention to his bunkmate.

"Constable...?" He began, then stopped realizing that he didn't know the others name.

"Constable Musset, sir."

Later that night, Javert retired to the bunkhouse. Constable Musset sat on his bunk, his head hung low and hands twisted within one another. At first he did not seem to notice the higher ranking officer enter the room. For this Javert was grateful, he did not feel much like talking tonight. But wanted to lay down and let the world fade away.

His luck did not last as long as he thought it would. For as he sat on his bunk next to the constables, Musset looked up at him. His brows were drawn in with fear and his face was still pale from earlier. Javert could not help but to feel sympathy.

"I thought you would still be out constable." Javert said.

"Not tonight sir," Musset told him his voice shaky , "I just can't stop thinking about…,I've never seen a dead person before. Have you, sir?

"Yes, many times."

"When was your first?" Musset asked

Javert sighed, "I don't remember, it was some years ago."

Musset looked at the sergeant with surprise. " Don't remember? I would have thought that was something one could never forget."

"Sometimes, other times it's best to forget." Javert told him

"I guess so, sir." Musset whispered sadly.

"Here." Javert had taken a bottle of whiskey from his trunk and offered it to the constable. "This should help."

"Are you sure, sir?" Musset asked. Javert simply nodded.

"You can keep it, I don't drink." Then in response to Musset's questioning look, Javert explained. "It was given to me as a gift by a colleague at my last posting."

"Thanks, sir" Musset took the bottle and poured some into his cup.

"Just don't drink enough to where your hangover in the morning." Javert added. It was not a joke, Musset laughed anyway.

"No of course." He said in between sips. The sergeant was right, the whiskey was making him feel better. "Sir, can I ask you a question."

Javert had laid down on his own bunk and looked at the constable but said nothing. Musset took his glance as permeation.

"It seemed that you knew the detective from this morning?"

"I've worked with him a couple of times several years ago." Javert said simply, not really wanting to tell him any more then that.

"How long have you been on the force then, Sir." Musset said

"A long time," Javert sighed,

"Can't be that long," Musset stated "I mean you don't seem that old. You Aren't much older than me are you?"

Javert shifted uneasily on his bunk. He decided to turn the tables on his questioner. "And how old are you exactly?"

"Twenty six, sir. I've only been on the force for a couple months. I've worked on my fathers grape farm in the country most of my life. But Pa passed it onto my older brother and I left for the city."

Javert looked up at the ceiling, somehow it felt strange to him to be dealing with an officer younger then himself. For so long he had been the youngest on the entire force. At what point he wondered did that stop being so? He thought of the older two constables from station seven. He may not be the youngest policeman in France anymore but he was still not far from it. Musset had unwitting stirred up the core of a problem that had faded away some time ago. He had the experience, just not the years. That was something he had been taught to look out for as his career advanced. Somehow if he wanted any respect as a sergeant, he needed to find a way to gain some years fast.

"I'm thirty, I've been on the force for half my life now" Javert answered the constables earlier question. Then he turned on his side, facing away from the constable.

"You've been on the force since you're fifteen?" Musset was surprised "I didn't know they took people that young."

Javert didn't respond, He was thinking of something else.


End file.
